


100% Perfectly Imperfect

by Nova_8



Category: Supertime, once upon a supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Little bit of hurt/comfort, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:46:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_8/pseuds/Nova_8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan and Dean Winchester have a snowball fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	100% Perfectly Imperfect

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know what this is, I was thinking about snow and then it turned into Swanchester fluff. Enjoy.

Emma woke up to cold sheets, calling out Dean's name as she turned slightly, rubbing her face as she did. She could hear muffled laughter, though she couldn't place where it was coming from. She laid there, warm and content for a few more moments before rising to face the day. As she descended the stairs, the living room came into view. The sight she was met with filled her with warmth.

Sitting on the couch was Dean, bouncing their son in his arms, tickling him. Peals of Henry's adorable laughter filled the air, and the look Dean was fixing the boy with was enough to stop Emma's heart. It was one of his rare smiles that lit up his whole face, reaching all the way up to crinkle his eyes. She leaned against the doorway, finally taking note of the clothes they were wearing.

"Going somewhere?" She asked, unable to keep some semblance of a smile off her face. Dean lifted his head to look at her, grinning.

"I'm gonna take Henry to Uncle Sammy's and i'll be right back." He set Henry to the side to say goodbye. He tucked her hair behind her ear, resting his hand on the side of her head as he kissed her, slow and chaste.

She couldn't remember the point in time when her life became this. Things were still difficult, sometimes Dean had horrible nightmares, and on those nights, Emma would lay awake with him until they were both too exhausted to keep their eyes open. Some of the nights she whispered comforts to him, but most of them were spent in relative silence. Those nights, their language was touch, reassuring lacing of hands and gentle fingers carding through hair. Both of them were scarred, jagged pieces held together barely by their skin. And she thought they were doing okay, all things considered. For a while, she waited for the other shoe to drop. It never did. They had problems, of course, but it was never anything catastrophic. The two of them were healing. Despite Henry being an accident, Emma and Dean were in agreement that he was the best thing that ever happened to them. She was scared of failing, so much that sometimes it almost paralyzed her. She had trained herself not to entertain that fear, knowing it wouldn't help anything.

"There's breakfast in the kitchen, and make sure to dress warmly for when i get back," he said, his hands resting lightly on her waist.

"What? Why?" He only smiled, turning back to Henry.

"Ready to go, kiddo?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, say bye to your mom then," he said, picking up Henry's day bag and his keys. Emma kneeled down to get on the two year old's level.

"Be nice to Uncle Sam and Aunt Ruby, okay?" Henry nodded his agreement and then she was lifting him into a brief hug. The two departed just two minutes later, leaving Emma to busy herself until Dean came back.

* * *

 

Emma sat on the porch, taking appreciation of the snow fall she hadn't noticed before. Dean drove up then. The black impala paired with the bright snow made her smile, a smile that spread a little wider as Dean walked up to the porch to meet her.

"So what's the plan for today?" Dean smirked at her question. "What?"

"You'll be needing these," he answered, pulling a pair of gloves from his jacket pocket. She took them from him with a look of confusion, slipping them on. Then with a mischievous grin, he jumped off the porch and jogged around to the other side of the house.

"Seriously?" She said to the empty air. Slowly, she made her way down the steps and began to walk to where he had run. Right as she turned the corner, a snowball sailed through the air, hitting her in the shoulder. "Hey!" A flash of fabric disappeared around the corner furthest from her, laughter echoing back. "Oh it is on, Winchester." She chased after him, and it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do in the snow. She scooped up snow as she went, hitting his retreating shoulder.

"Hey!" He shouted, turning around, stopping.

"You started it," she said, shrugging.

"Oh really?" he answered, and then he raced forward. Emma let out a exhilarated yell, turning to run away from him. She heard him laugh behind her unable to keep from laughing with him. She quickly turned around the corner to the front yard, nearly falling. As soon as she righted herself, she took off again, not expecting the ice on the pavement she was dashing towards.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" She tried outstretching her arms to keep balance but it was useless. Dean was running up to her. "No, Dean, don-" He couldn't slow down though, and soon as his feet hit the ice, he was slipping. He reached out, grabbing a fistful of her jacket and the world turned sideways unexpectedly. Before she knew it, they were both lying in the snow, infectious laughter shaking their bodies.

"Let's not do that again," Emma said through breathless laughs, disentangling herself from Dean and dropping next to him with a _thud_. He snaked an arm around her shoulders, and for a few minutes they laid in the snow, quietly breathing. Every few seconds, snowflakes drifted lazily down to meet them. Emma turned her head to look at Dean and smiled slightly. Dean was beautiful in the light of the snow and the morning. It was so much more than his face that made him beautiful, almost like she could see  who he was, his soul, pulsing behind his skin and lighting up his eyes. A snowflake landed on his lip and before Emma could think about it, she lifted herself to meet his lips, resting her gloved hand on his cheek. He kissed back, gentle and sweet at first, turning himself so she wouldn't strain her neck. Nearly simultaneously, they deepened the kiss and she felt a warmth bloom in her core. She pulled back then, smiling, their foreheads pressed together. She stroked her thumb just under his eye.

"We should go inside," she whispered. He gave the slightest of nods, making no move to get up. She found herself laughing again. "Dean, its cold."

"I love you, Emma." He said softly, and she breathed in his words. Her heart stuttered at the unexpected declaration. They rarely said it aloud often, not feeling the need to. It was an unspoken rule. To say it often felt like it would strip of it of its meaning. So she soaked in it,  forgetting the cold.

"I love you," she whispered back and they laid still for a few more moments before heading back inside, hand in hand.


End file.
